


What Comforts We Should Find

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Awkward!Barry, Blowjobs, Domestic!Len, M/M, Phone Sex, handjobs, secret keeping, slight AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 13:02:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6052618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Beauty of whatever kind, in its supreme development, invariably excites the sensitive soul to tears.”—Edgar Allan Poe</i>
</p><p>Barry Allen has been dating Leonard Snart for nearly six months. Barry Allen knows Leonard Snart is also renowned thief, <i>Captain Cold</i>. Leonard Snart does <i>not</i> know his own Barry Allen is The Flash. It’s complicated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Comforts We Should Find

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is, a random AU born from a massive stroke of inspiration. The idea had been kicking around in my head for a couple days but it finally just came to be (I blame the pain meds I'm on).
> 
> Slight AU wherein Barry and Len started dating before Len becomes Captain Cold. It's important to note that in this universe, Len Snart is a regular guy and Capt Cold is the thief (as opposed to canon where Len was a thief before becoming Capt Cold). Hope that makes sense!
> 
> Enjoy!

Barry loves the fog that clouds his mind when Len kisses him. Len kisses deeply, unafraid and cocky yet still somehow tender. Even with the doorknob digging into his back, Barry feels thoroughly romanced and wooed. His fingers are curled in the fur lining of Len’s parka and the softness beneath his fingertips adds to the breathlessness of the kiss. The only grounding factor is Len’s fingers digging into the skin of Barry’s hips.

Len pulls back with a groan. “You’re killing me.” Len complains despite the grin on his lips. Barry rolls his eyes. “I’m serious, I don’t know if I can take much more.” To make his point even more clearly, Len slips his fingers under Barry’s shirt and inches toward Barry’s nipples. Barry lets him for a few moments, but despite the aching want curled in his stomach Barry stops Len before the older man can touch. Len lets out another noise of frustration.

Their eyes meet and Barry almost feels bad. He doesn’t apologize. “You can’t tell me that it doesn’t make the things we do end up doing even better.” He teases, even adding a flirtatious roll of his hips.

Len raises his eyebrows, a caring taunt, but Barry can see the way he grits his teeth. His grip, again settled on Barry’s hips, tightens for a moment. “You’re killing me,” he says again. Len leans in and presses a sharply innocent kiss to Barry’s lips. “I need to leave, or else I’m not gonna be able to stop.” His tone is still teasing but the slight edge to it gives away underlying desperation.

It isn’t as though Barry wants to turn Len away. In fact, there is little he’d enjoy more than finally letting the older man inside, to the bedroom. But, it’s more complicated than simply stripping down and sliding under the covers, at least for Barry.

Barry catches Len’s hand and laces their fingers together. “Soon,” he assures, as he does every time they part ways with heated minds.

Len nods. Barry notes that there’s hardly exasperation or true disappointment in Len’s manner; there’s impatience and desire and desperation, but Barry relishes the lack of resentment. He’s not sure if the situation were reversed if he’d be able to stay as cool and calm as Len has been.

“Text me when you get home?” Barry asks with puppy-dog eyes and a sheepish smile. It’s a combination that works on nearly everyone, but especially well on Len.

“Of course.” They kiss again, once more and sweetly, before Len is stalking back to his motorcycle and leaving Barry on the front steps of his home. Barry waits until Len is pulling from the curb to let himself inside. Once the door is shut and locked behind him, Barry falls against it and sighs.

He’s not entirely sure _what_ he’s gotten himself into, but he knows above all else it is complicated.

)

It started six months ago, not too long before he met Len as _Captain Cold_ instead of just Len. Six months ago, Barry had been at a bar, the last of his friends to leave. Caitlin had dragged an incredibly drunk Cisco back to S.T.A.R. labs to sleep it off, and Joe stayed only a little longer to finish his drink before taking off as well. Barry was left sitting at the bar, drinking something that did nothing for his inhibitions and tasted, frankly, like crap.

Len—and that’s all he had been at the time, just _Len_ —had snuck up on him, sliding something sweet and much tastier his way in lieu of a greeting. Len had stood beside Barry as he accepted the drink. Len hadn’t said a word until Barry had downed the whole thing and was smiling with a pleasant flush to his cheeks. Len was smooth and charming and had Barry hooked far too easily. They’d kissed that night when Len was kind enough to give Barry a lift home. They’d exchanged numbers on Barry’s doorstep and Len left with a promise to call Barry soon, set up a real date.

Radio silence ensued, and Barry was writing Len off as a fever dream when he got a call: the Flash was needed at the museum, new exhibit, being robbed. He had done his best not to let his disappointment impact his speed or his work. When it turned out Len was _Captain Cold_ , robbing and stealing and throwing sharp puns at the Flash, Barry couldn’t decide if he was elated, terrified, or simply baffled.

That night, after Captain Cold had fled the scene with a few valuables and the Flash had returned home feeling mixed up inside, it figured that _Len_ would call Barry, asking for that real date.

And despite the night that had transpired, Barry said yes.

)

That had been six months ago, and Barry still hasn’t broken the news to Len. Pushing off from the door Barry checks his phone. No new messages, both a relief and not.

On one hand, Barry often wonders if Len doesn’t already know and is only playing along to assuage Barry in some way. But, at the same time, Captain Cold doesn’t seem like the type to ‘play along’ with anything. Barry hasn’t told any of his friends either, though they all suspect he’s got _someone_ going on.

His secret identity is why Barry hasn’t allowed things with Len to get further than kissing and rushed groping and a few bouts of sexting that always got interrupted by crime. Barry hasn’t figured out how to control his speed in the heat of the moment, has decided he doesn’t really _want_ to because it’s actually more of a perk than a con. Being able to vibrate is a decidedly _excellent_ perk of his abilities. But Len knows him only as Barry, which means he can’t be vibrating his way into Len’s pants without giving everything away.

Barry falls onto his bed, mind still blazing with thoughts, and groans. He _wants_ Len. Things would perhaps be different if he had met Captain Cold first, but he hadn’t. He’d met Len first: Len who was less theatrical, less diabolical, but still ridiculous and still a delight. Barry changes into his pajamas using his super speed, and by the time he’s tucked himself in with a book, his phone chimes.

**_From: Len – 11:35PM_ ** _  
Made it safe. Missing you._

Barry’s sigh is a bit choked up by the flutter in his chest. Len is sweet in a way Barry would never expect from Captain Cold. Len is caring and soft; his jokes are sharp and his wit is quick, but he’s never crude or threatening to Barry. Not that he’s especially threatening to Flash, either. It all seems to be a game of cat and mouse between Cold and the Flash.

Barry can’t help the blossoming grin and the heat in his stomach.

**_To: Len – 11:36PM_ ** _  
I’m glad you’re safe. I miss you too._

Barry stares at the message and barely a second after he hits send, he begins to type again.

 ** _To: Len – 11:36PM_** _  
I’m sorry_.

Len’s response is nearly instant.

**_From: Len – 11:37PM_ ** _  
Don’t be. I don’t mind waiting._

It’s almost worse that Len is genuine. Len has the patience of a saint, even if Barry can see how badly the older man wants it. It would be better if Len tried harder to take what he wanted, Barry would be more inclined to either give in or break it off with him entirely. Instead, Len bends to Barry’s every whim as though there’s nothing else he wants to do in this world. Len’s behavior waters the guilt that’s eating Barry alive.

Staring at the message, Barry gnaws on his lip.

)

It had been after their third date, when Barry found himself gasping and moaning into Len’s mouth and pressed into the older man’s couch, that he knew he had to lay down the ground rules. Despite the chills running through him as Len’s lips trailed over his skin, Barry forced himself to be strong. He had pushed Len away, sat up straighter, and spoke seriously.

He had told Len that this was his first serious time dating a man—which wasn’t a lie, really. Barry had never dated a man before Len. He’d slept with guys in college, sure, and he was assuredly confident in his bisexuality. But he’d never dated a guy before. With that in mind, he’d ‘confessed’ to Len that he wanted to take things slow and serious—which also wasn’t a lie.

Barry felt terrified of his feelings for Len and how quickly they were developing. Len understood him in a way that Barry only otherwise felt with Iris, and even then Len seemed to know him better. This thing with Len had fast become serious, and Barry honestly didn’t want to fuck it up. And Barry had told Len all of that, honest and open and his voice shaking only a little.

At the end of his spiel, Barry had expected the worst: Len would call it quits there; Len wouldn’t want to be with someone who acted like a blushing virgin waiting for marriage. Barry was, understandably, thrown off when Len had ruffled his hair and agreed without hesitation. That was that, and Len simply pulled Barry close to _cuddle_ , and flicked on a movie for them to watch.

)

Barry’s phone chiming pulls him from his thoughts again.

**_From: Len – 11:40PM_ ** _  
I really don’t mind, you know that, right?_

Barry groans and throws his head back to stare at the ceiling. It isn’t fair to Len to keep lying, not when he’s been far more incredible than Barry anticipated.

**_To: Len – 11:41PM_ ** _  
I know you don’t. I still feel bad._

Barry’s phone lit up again, but instead of a text it was a call. Barry answered with a soft voice, “hey.”

“Hey yourself.” Len’s voice was stronger and the smirk on his lips came through his tone. “Don’t do that, don’t apologize.”

Barry scrubs a hang over his face, exasperated with himself at this point. “I just—I don’t want you to think I don’t want to. Because I really, _really_ want to.” Barry lets the words fall out without time to be embarrassed. He’s an adult, Len is certainly an adult, and they can talk about _sex_ like adults. “You—you’re so amazing and I want have sex with you.”

Len doesn’t chime in.

“I just…” Barry groans. “I have no idea…”

Len hums. “What if we tried phone sex?”

The suggestion catches Barry off guard and he fumbles with the phone so badly he hangs up on Len. He redials immediately and Len answers the phone laughing.

“Smooth, Barry, very smooth.”

“I’ve never had phone sex before.”

“I’m not surprised.” It’s a tease, but not unkind. Len is fifteen years his senior and Barry has learned not to be shocked by the experiences Len has had. “But there’s a first time for everything, right?”

Barry swallows. “Yeah.” His voice is more even than he expected. “You sure?”

“I think I’m the one who should be asking you that. If you’re not okay with it, that’s fine too.” Len is quick to reassure Barry. It would make him feel childish if it didn’t warm his heart so much.

“I think… I think I’d like that. You’ll have to, uh, take charge. I guess.” Barry laughs and it verges a bit on hysterics.

“I can do that.” Len’s voice is deeper after Barry’s laugh has faded. It’s smooth and rich and tantalizing in Barry’s ear. “Don’t be self-conscious,” Len commands, “don’t worry about it,” he directs, “and don’t be afraid to laugh.”

Barry grins. “Okay.”

Len makes a pleased noise that’s caught between a chuckle and a moan. “What are you wearing?”

Barry looks down, wonders if he should play it up before deciding to keep it simple. “Sweatpants and a t-shirt.”

“Will you take off your shirt for me, Barry?” Len asks, unassuming and soft.

Barry’s voice catches in his throat. He sets the phone down and strips off his red tee, then brings the phone back to his ear. “It’s off.”

“Good. Thank you.”

The praise feels like molten pleasure running down Barry’s spine. It’s like nothing he’s _ever_ felt before.

“Are you hard?” Len asks.

“Not completely,” Barry answers honestly. He looks down at the growing bulge of his cock. “Almost, though.” He licks his suddenly dry lips. “Are you?”

“Sweetheart I’ve been hard since I left your front porch.” Len’s response is quick and the thought of Len driving home with a hard on brings Barry’s own cock to full mast. “I wanted to get down on my knees for you right there and suck you off.” Len is a natural and his voice is like the best drug.

Barry can only whimper, words a far off dream on his part.

The smile that’s undoubtedly on Len’s face is given away by his tone. “I think about you every night, about all the things I want to do to you.”

Barry listens to the tell-tale sounds of a zipper sliding down, the shuffling of Len getting comfortable and grasping his cock. Barry bites his lip again, debating. He speaks before he can lose his nerve. “Len?”

“Yeah, Bar?”

His heart skips a beat. “Can I touch myself?”

Len gasps, _“fuck,”_ and then it’s his turn to fumble with the phone. He doesn’t drop it or hang up, though; he regains his cool faster than Barry. “Of course, Barry. Please. I want to hear you.”

Barry nods even though Len can’t see him and hurriedly slips his free hand into his sweats. “I think about you, too, you know. All the time.” It’s true: at S.T.A.R. labs, at C.C.P.D., on coffee dates with Iris or stakeouts with Cisco. Len is persistently on Barry’s mind and in often lewd ways. “What do you want to do to me?”

“I want to taste you so bad, Barry.” Len licks his lips and the sound travels through the phone straight to Barry’s cock. “I want to suck you off until you can’t handle it anymore, and then I’ll stop—”

The noise of loss is out of Barry’s mouth before he can stop it. It prompts another sweet chuckle from Len.

“I want you on a bed, on your hands and knees, and I want to eat you out.”

Barry gasps and draws his knees together; the tingles running through his veins make him feel like a high schooler, like a virgin. He’s not in any regard, really, but Len makes him feel like everything is new and electrifying.

“I want to taste you,” he says again, “and open you up with my fingers and tongue. I want to drive you crazy until you’re begging me to be inside you, to _come_ inside you.”

Barry tightens his grip on his cock, “oh _fuck_ , Len,” it comes out as a whisper.

“I want to make you come with my tongue inside you and without me touching your dick.”

Barry whimpers and speeds up his hand. The way Len’s breathing changes gives away his pace picking up, hand moving faster. “Please—!” Barry begs and doesn’t feel the slightest bit of shame, only desire.

“I’ll turn you over after you’ve come, and I’ll spread your legs—fuck, Barry, your legs. They drive me wild.” Len’s voice hitches briefly. “I want to spread your legs and finally slide inside you. I want to press into you slowly, so you feel every inch of how hard I am, for _you_.”

“Len, oh god, _shit_ ,” Barry speeds up his hand to the point of vibrating, thankful for the added stimulation. It’s not different from what he imagines when he’s alone, and his hand moves the same way as ever, but Len’s voice in his ear pushes him even closer to the edge. “I need you inside me.”

“Yeah?” Len prompts, “tell me.”

Barry’s back arches as he thrusts his hips into the grip of his hand. “It’s all I can think about sometimes, how badly I want you to fuck me. I want to feel you, I want you to own _me_ ,” the words, again, spill out before Barry can think about them too much. “I’ve fucked myself, w-with my fingers, wishing it was you.”

“God, Barry,” Len hisses. If Barry strains his ears he can pick up on the slick sound of Len’s hand stroking; the slap of skin on skin is crude and juvenile and that makes it even _hotter_. “I want to come inside you, make you _mine_.”

The last word pushes Barry over the edge unexpectedly. He comes with a shout— _Len!_ —and he comes so hard it feels like all the air has been sucked from the room. His body feels vibrant and electric, buzzing with the haze of an orgasm. He’s catching his breath as he listens to Len continue, the man’s words abandoned in favor of moans and gasps.

Barry’s cock twitches with interest but he ignores it, instead intent on returning the favor. “I want you to fuck me over and over and over again. When we finally do I want to dedicate a whole date to nothing but that—I want us to be absolutely _filthy_ ,” Barry’s grin is all teeth and dirty. “I want to feel completely owned by you, Len, _please_.” He pitches his voice just so, just enough to submit to Len and play up his genuine desperation.

Len comes with a grunt, short and fast and a sharp contrast to Barry’s own exclamation. It’s no less hot, though, not when Len is gasping Barry’s name over and over again as he comes down from the high.

Eventually, their breathing evens out and once it does Barry finds himself laughing. Len joins in, wordlessly understanding the giddiness coursing through the younger man. After a few minutes, that dies down as well. Barry knows the grin he’s sporting must be dopey and delighted, and he doesn’t mind one bit.

“That was…” Barry can’t find the words, too excited and too amped up.

Len, on the other hand, is softer and more tired when he speaks. His tone is no less pleased, however. “Mhmm, exactly.” There’s noise on his head that Barry interprets as Len getting into bed, settling down for the night. “Thank you, Barry.”

“Thank you, you goof.” Barry fiddles with the hem of his blanket. “That was so good.”

“And just think—the real deal will be even better.”

Barry laughs and stamps out the urge to apologize again. “I should get to bed,” a yawn punctuates his statement. “Work tomorrow, and all that.”

Len hums in agreement. “Be safe,” he requests, as always. He knows Barry works for the police department, and even if Barry tries to tell him there’s little danger involved in being a C.S.I., Len still always asks that Barry be _safe_. “I’ll probably be spending tomorrow with Lisa, but feel free to text me, okay?”

“Okay.” Barry smiles as he feels the pull of sleep. “G’night, Len.”

“G’night, Bar.”

)

)

)

It shouldn’t come as a surprise to Barry that, eventually, his friends figure out who his secret boyfriend is. They’re scientists and like to think of themselves as investigators—Barry should’ve known they would be snooping. Snooping, in this case, meant seeing a text from Len waiting on Barry’s phone and Cisco setting to work on tracking down every possible ‘Len’ in Central City.

Barry is searching for his phone when Cisco screeches, _“you’re dating Captain Cold?!”_

It takes a lot of explaining, going all the way back to that first night at that bar, and in the end Caitlin and Cisco handle it better than Barry thought they would.

“So, he doesn’t know you’re the Flash?” Caitlin asks cautiously.

Barry shakes his head. “I—I want to tell him, but at this point, I’m not really sure how.” It’s now been eight months since they got together, and things are as perfect as ever aside from the whole secret identity thing.

“What has he told you he does for a living?” Cisco barks, suddenly.

Barry laughs, “He told me he comes from ‘old money’ and doesn’t need to work for a living. I think he knows I don’t totally believe it, but we don’t really talk about that much.”

Caitlin fidgets in silence until Barry groans, prompting her to speak again. “Is it serious?” She asks quietly, as though it’s far too sacred to say aloud.

Barry contemplates the question for a moment. He knows it’s serious, yes, but _how_ serious? He knows Len brightens his day in a way no one else can, and he knows he returns the favor. He knows it probably won’t be much longer before he and Len are telling each other _I love you_. Len has been dropping hints about them spending a night together—no sex if Barry doesn’t want to, just time together and intimacy.

But is it serious enough for Barry to reveal the truth? That’s still up in the air.

Caitlin stares back at Barry, and even though he hasn’t given an answer she seems to understand.

)

)

)

It’s not until the tenth month mark that Barry caves and agrees to spend the night at Len’s house. He packs a small, simple overnight bag, and waits until the revving of Len’s motorcycle pulls up in front of his home. Barry hurries outside with a grin, makes sure his bag is secure, and accepts the passenger helmet from Len.

The drive over is silent and Barry takes the time to parse out his thoughts. His nerves are running high and he’d been shaking before he left. He knows Len isn’t really expecting sex tonight, and that would be a relief if Barry’s own arousal wasn’t so insistent. Not to mention Barry hasn’t quite figured out the perfect excuse should he get called away on Flash business.

By the time they’ve reached Len’s house, Barry hasn’t figured out any answers for himself and resolves to simply wing it. Len links their fingers after they’re parked and pulls Barry inside. “I’m glad you’re here.” It’s not the first time Barry has been to Len’s, but even when he’s stayed well into the night he’s never slept over before. “Thank you.” Len cups Barry’s face and kisses him as a thank you as well.

It’s these ‘thank you’s that weaken Barry’s resolve more than anything. Len is always eager to thank Barry: for phone sex, for a surprise lunch date, for agreeing to sexting, for _anything_. Len is eager for Barry and his approval and it makes it harder, day by day, to keep up the secret.

Barry is still tangled in his own thoughts as Len lists off some of the plan he had in mind for the evening. Something about a movie, maybe ordering some pizza, he makes sure to mention that the couch is also a pull-out futon in case Barry decides he doesn’t want to share a bed tonight.

He kisses Len at this. “I want to share a bed.” Barry insists. It’s the one thing he’s sure of for tonight.

)

Barry moans into the kiss before Len pulls back. It’s started innocently enough with pizza. They’d been eating and talking over whatever movie it was that was on television, and Len had reached over to wipe a streak of sauce off Barry’s chin with his index finger. Len had then popped said finger into his own mouth and licked it clean with a dirty smirk in Barry’s direction. Okay, so maybe it hadn’t started _that_ innocently, but it was fast moving into far naughtier territory.

Len pulls back from the kiss and shoves Barry onto the bed. Barry hits the mattress and bounces with a laugh spilling from his mouth. Len wastes no time in climbing on top of Barry, covering the younger man’s body from head to toe. They’re still fully clothed and despite their aching cocks, it’s more intimate than Barry has ever experienced.

Len’s needy noises increase in frequency as their bodies begin to roll together for friction. Barry winds his legs around Len’s hips, and he clutches at Len’s arms. Len holds himself up just slightly above Barry; his elbows dig into the bed for support. Their hips grind together and the heat fogs Barry’s mind. It feels dirtier than real sex, to be rubbing off on one another and moments away from coming in their pants. It feels more illicit, more intense.

“Barry,” Len’s hips don’t slow as he speaks. “Can I…?” He presses a hand to Barry’s chest, then drags his fingers down to the front of Barry’s jeans. “Can I taste you?”

Barry stiffens and his legs tighten almost painfully in their grip on Len’s waist. Barry’s heart jumps to his throat and his moans are short and choked as he comes, a damp spot growing on his jeans. His body loosens, and his legs drop to the bed from Len’s hips; it takes a few moments for Barry’s brain to come back online, though he still feels boneless.

Len’s expression is shocked, flushed, flattered. Barry shrugs with a grin. “Sorry, not sorry?” He tries. Len just breaks into a matching smile and dives down for a kiss.

In between presses of lips, Len speaks. “You… are too much… Barry Allen…” Len nips at Barry’s lip. “You are something else, kid.”

Barry feels suddenly bashful and worshipped, though it’s hardly anything new coming from Len. “Can I suck you?” Barry asks as he sits up. “I want to make you feel good.”

Len’s face is briefly surprised, but calms—or, as much as it can when he’s overtaken with arousal as he is. Len nods. “Please do.” They shift and move smoothly around each other. Barry for a moment considers how their compatibility in the field shows itself here in the bedroom. They maneuver around each other with a grace Barry doesn’t otherwise know. Barry slinks to the ground, his knees hitting the carpet gently, and Len moves to the edge of the bed with spread legs.

Barry doesn’t waste time teasing Len, figuring he’s done enough of that already. He makes quick work of the button and zipper of Len’s jeans. He pushes at Len’s hips to rise so that he can tug down said jeans and Len’s boxers, freeing his cock. Barry takes in the sight. It’s not the first time he’s seen Len’s dick: they’ve sent nude photos and even a quick video or two to one another from time to time. It’s the first time Barry is seeing it in person, however. The thought makes him dizzy.

Len combs a hand through Barry’s already mussed hair. It’s a soft and sweet gesture that encourages Barry to lean forward and press a single kiss to the head of Len’s cock. He flattens his tongue against the skin, takes in the musky taste and firm texture, and laps a stripe across the bottom of his boyfriend’s dick. Len tenses with one hand gripping the bed and the other knotted in Barry’s hair. The sparks of pain meld with the hazy pleasure and Barry’s nerves dissipate entirely, finally.

He curls his lips to cover his teeth and takes as much of Len’s length into his mouth as he can in one fell swoop. Len swears and his hips buck, fucking his cock deeper into Barry’s mouth. Barry’s throat is relaxed and he swallows eagerly around the intrusion in his mouth. He feels his eyes flutter shut, his heart skip a few beats, and his cock grows hard again. It’s been a long time since Barry was last with a man, before Len, but he knows sucking someone off never felt _this_ good.

It’s just something about Let that has Barry feeling wanton and desperate to please, His mouth is watering and making a mess on Len’s prick, wet and slick and precome smearing with spit across Barry’s lips as he bobs his head. Len guides him only a little, mostly his hand acting as a gauge for Len’s reaction. A tight single squeeze is good; his grip relaxing is good, too, but means Barry isn’t doing the perfect thing with his tongue; a constant grip on his hair to the point of pain means Barry is bringing Len closer and closer to the edge.

“Barry, I’m—I’m going to come.” Len’s voice is remarkably even.

Barry doesn’t pull back. He braces his hands on Len’s knees and bobs faster, tongue running swirls along the vein on the underside of Len’s cock. Barry can barely keep his eyes open as he feels high on the sensation of Len in his mouth. He still raises his gaze, though, to lock eyes with the older man. Len’s bright blue eyes are wide and dilated, his mouth is slack jawed and moans are filling the room on every exhale.

Len is obviously struggling to keep his eyes open as well, so Barry doesn’t look away. He wants to see Len come, wants to see the bliss contort his boyfriend’s face. He wants Len to see how much Barry wants to please, how desperate he is for Len’s come.

“Fuck, Barry, _fuck_!” Len’s face does twist and his eyes are half-lidded. His eyes dilate further to the point of a barely-there ring of blue around his pupil. A moan bursts from his mouth as though it’s spilling from deep within his chest. His cock pulses and each time sends a string of come into Barry’s mouth, onto his tongue, down his throat. The taste is bitter and unpleasant and _excellent_.

Len’s cock twitches a few more times, still feeling red-hot on Barry’s tongue, before softening. Barry pulls back and swallows pointedly. Len laughs and the hand that had gripped Barry’s hair moves to cup his chin. “You are _amazing_.” Len says reverently. Barry shifts on his knees, he sits up taller and leans into Len’s touch. “And you’re hard, again.”

Barry flushes pink all the way down his chest and arms. “It’s okay—?” Barry honestly isn’t sure he could keep his powers in check during another round. The control he has on them now is tenuous as best and his speed is bursting at the seams from the sensitivity. Barry’s further protest dies on his lips as Len hauls him back onto the bed.

In the back of his mind, Barry knows this is a bad idea. He knows he probably won’t be able to control the vibrations, but he’s in Len’s lap and Len’s fingers are curling around his cock and stroking. The angle is perfect and Len’s grip is confident and fast. Len is peppering kisses along Barry’s exposed neck, and his free hand is teasing the cleft of Barry’s ass through his jeans.

Barry rocks between the sensations: he thrusts into Len’s grip and grinds back on the finger that’s teasing so much more. It’s when Len leans down and mouths at Barry’s nipples through his shirt that control is out the window, gone, done for. Barry can’t take it. He can’t handle so man points of stimulation and with his mind foggy from earlier he can’t even feel concerned as his body starts to vibrate.

At first it’s subtle and he can hide it by undulating his body more, but soon it bleeds into his moans and it sounds as though he’s being shaken. His skin heats up under Len’s ministrations and he can feel how his body sparks against Len’s lips. Barry can’t stop once it’s started—well, he _could_ , but he doesn’t particularly _want_ to—but when Len pulls away and stops completely it’s as though a bucket of ice water has been dumped on Barry.

Len’s stare is hard and confused, a look Barry has never seen on _Len_. It’s a look he’s seen on Captain Cold, but never on Len. Barry is frozen, his cock still hard and exposed between them. He wants to think that Len not shoving him away is a good sign, but neither man is speaking and it’s impossible to read the situation when Barry’s mind is still deeply entrenched in sex.

Barry gapes at Len like a fish and the longer the silence stretches, the clearer his mind becomes and the softer his cock gets. Barry lays his hands on Len’s shoulders and sighs in relief when Len lets him. Anger is clearly shifting under the confusion on Len’s face. Barry’s heart is racing with fear.

Barry lets out a shout when Len grips his cock again. Len’s fingers curl tighter, still slick with precome, and he strokes faster. Barry gasps for air and his body reacts immediately. The vibrations start again though Barry works to keep them in check as much as he can. The hand that had previously teased the outside of Barry’s jean clad ass slips inside his boxers to touch the bare skin.

Barry can’t keep his eyes open especially as overwhelmed tears burn at the corners of his eyes. He moves again, rocking with the motions of Len’s touch. Len leans in to Barry’s ear. “I’m going to make you come, and then you are going to _explain_.” It’s a weird juxtaposition: the anger in Len’s voice and the care in his hands.

Len’s hips shift and rock Barry’s body so that the younger man’s legs spread wider. His hand on Barry’s cock speeds up, and he finally presses a finger to Barry’s hole. He doesn’t try to push inside—not dry like this—only presses on the puckered skin as a promise of more to come. Barry sobs, and Len knows it’s partially fear and partially ecstasy. Len rubs his finger against Barry’s hole knowing full well the sparks of arousal shooting through him.

Barry’s grip on his shoulders tightens to the point of pain. Barry’s nails dig into Len’s skin even through his shirt. “Len!” Barry cries out as his body shakes and vibrates and burns. “Len, Len, Len, _Len_!” Len’s name is like a prayer on Barry’s lips, never ending. Barry hiccups once, a high pitched moan before his body stiffens again, and his come spurts onto Len’s shirt and his own.

Len keeps stroke and keeps massaging until Barry’s hands try to push him away. Len pulls back without a fight, and leans back on his hands as he stares up at his boyfriend.  He waits.  

Barry comes to his senses quicker because of the fear and panic and guilt coursing through him. His eyes are still wet with emotion and he wipes at them before speaking. “Len—?” He doesn’t know what to say, though. Hasn’t his body said it all? Vibrating at a super speed—really, how many people on earth can do that?

Len doesn’t reply and instead tucks Barry’s cock back into his underwear, zips up both their pants and makes them decent again. He grabs Barry by the hips and lifts him with ease to set him to the side. Len faces the wall and not Barry. Barry stares at Len but his mind is blank.

Len’s eyebrows draw together in anger and confusion, but when his eyes meet Barry’s the blue irises are only full of hurt.

“I was going to tell you.” Barry insists. “I just—that first night at the bar was so amazing, and then suddenly I’m fighting you every other week and kissing you and… I just, I didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t expect you to be my date one night and my new rival the next.” Barry feels as though he’s on the verge of hysterics. “Once I knew you were Captain Cold, I had to set those ground rules. I didn’t know what else to do!”

Len doesn’t speak.

“I hated keeping it from you.” Barry drops his head into his hands. “It was so hard to see you in the field and try to stop you or not—not bring up something about _us_. It was nearly impossible.” Barry’s voice is muffled by the palms of his hands. “At first it was because I didn’t really know you. That’s not something you tell people when they seduce you at a bar, or whatever. If—if you _hadn’t_ been Captain Cold, I probably would’ve told you sooner.

“It wasn’t about not being able to trust you. Thief or not, I didn’t think you were gonna go blasting my real name across the city or something. I knew I could trust you but… I was just… scared.” Barry’s voice cracks. “I was so scared that you were going to hate me or laugh in my face or…” He swallows around the lump in his throat. “I was scared you were gonna leave.”

Len finally faces Barry but still doesn’t speak. Barry continues.

“These past months have been some of the best of my life. I didn’t—after the whole debacle with Iris I didn’t think I’d ever date, ever get over her. I kind of thought I was doomed. But you and I _click_. We get each other and not just because we’re both involved in crime-fighting or whatever. We fit together and I haven’t been able to explain it from day one but I’ve always loved it.”

Barry trips over his words now; a voice in the back of his mind tells him now probably isn’t an ideal time to say it, but that same voice also wonders if he’ll ever have a chance again after tonight.

“I love you, Len. I love you so much I feel like I’m going to burst, sometimes. I didn’t know I could feel this way.” It’s word vomit beyond the first four words. He feels like a broken record or a leaky faucet as the words pour from his mouth without thought beyond _please don’t leave me_. “I really feel like we’ve got something awesome going on here, and I’m not gonna—not gonna ask you to stop being Captain Cold or to stop associating with the Rogues or whatever. I know that’s kind of your life. And I really hope you aren’t gonna ask me to give up being Flash because you have to know that can’t happen.”

Barry raises pleading eyes to meet Len’s blue ones.

“But we can still have a life together, right?” Barry asks almost more to himself than Len. “Captain Cold and Flash aren’t you and me. You’re Len and I’m Barry and we’re not the same people in here as we are—” he gestures vaguely towards the outside “—out there.” Barry’s tears and emotions seem to have run their course and he stops shaking. “Right?”

Len stares. He takes in the tear streaks staining Barry’s face. He takes in the mess of brown hair on the kid’s head, and the stains of come scattered between them. Len is angry, and an itch of betrayal nags at him. But he can’t disagree with anything Barry has said, not even if he wanted to.

Len sighs a deep inhale and exhale. He holds up a hand to shush Barry when it seems the younger man might start rambling again. Len takes his time gathering up the words he needs before finally speaking. When he does, he doesn’t feel much more coherent than Barry despite the balance in his tone.

“I am angry.” Len lays that out first. “I am so unbelievably angry, in a way that I never expected to be regarding you.” Len clasps his hands in his lap. “You betrayed me. You lied to me. I do _not_ trust easily, but I allowed myself to take a chance on you, and you do this.” Len can’t keep his gaze locked with Barry’s; it’s too intense. “I have half a mind to kick you out, and you can flash yourself home. I wonder if it wouldn’t be better to call this off now, because you’re right—

“I’m not going to stop being Captain Cold; I’m not going to upend that portion of my life. And I’m not going to ask you to stop, either. I don’t know if you realize how much this complicates things. If it ever gets out that I’m Captain Cold, the cops will be all over me, and you’ll be in insane amounts of trouble for associating with me.”

“I wouldn’t let anyone find out.” Barry interrupts. “Cisco and Caitlin know but we’re dating and they knew your identity as Captain Cold anyway b-but they’d never tell anyone.” Barry quells any further words threatening to spill forth.

Len doesn’t comment on a thing Barry said. “However, the past ten months,” nearly eleven, actually, but that’s semantics for later, “have been better than the rest of my life in entirety.” Len stares at his hands and twiddles his thumbs. “I knew something was up, and I knew you didn’t buy my ‘old money’ story. But that was fine. We didn’t talk about it, and I figured—I assumed at some point I’d convince you to join me.”

Barry smiles and lets out a wet laugh.

“I…” Len groans and runs a hand through his buzz cut hair. “I love you, too.” He settles on the confession though his voice is pained. “It’s stupid, honestly, how much.” A grin tugs at the corners of his mouth, one that he won’t let on display quite yet. “This is never a situation I saw coming, despite every other theory I entertained.”

Barry makes a mental note to ask about those ‘theories’ later, maybe a year from now if they make it that long. Len falls silent so Barry starts again. “What do we do?” He feels like a child now more than ever. He feels like he’s being scolded and coddled simultaneously and he’s never been so afraid of being alone.

Len sighs. He raises his hands and reaches for Barry; he links his left hand with Barry’s right, and cups Barry’s chin with his free hand. Len tilts his head and examines the expression on Barry’s face. The kid has always worn his emotions on his sleeve. It’s how Len knew there was a secret festering somewhere; the genuine nature of Barry had lead Len to believe it was something small, negligible in the long run. And maybe it could be, given time.

The ground rules surrounding their jobs are already clear. Len knows they’ll naturally toe the lines on occasion: Barry will certainly preach about the good side and Len can’t promise he won’t try to seduce the Flash into helping with some heists. The more he thinks about it, the less the idea bothers him. The more he thinks about it, the more he recalls every blissful moment spent with Barry for the past ten months.

The more he thinks about this whole ordeal, the more he’s sure he wouldn’t change a thing.

Barry catches the subtle way Len leans closer and Barry meets him half way in a kiss. Barry lets out a relieved sob against Len’s lips and his arms snap to embrace Len. Len kisses Barry hard, in a biting way, possessive and still mad but also loving. Barry’s body bends to get closer to Len and he soon sends them toppling onto their backs on the bed.

The motion has Len laughing with Barry, both pairs of eyes wet with tears. Barry is tucked partially against Len’s side and his hands are splayed on Len’s chest. Len’s own hands are grasping at Barry with control, never intending to let him go.

)

)

)

 “Really, Cold? Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Flash taunts from the doorway of the jewelry store. Mick is already shuffling out of the store, though he doesn’t know that Oliver is waiting on the other side ready to take him down. Lisa is nowhere to be seen, and Barry figures she’s already miles away with her own share of the loot. Captain Cold stops in his stealing, one hand full of precious jewelry and the other holding a bag to stuff it in.

Cold turns with a smirk. “As a matter of fact, _Scarlet_ ,” the name rolls off his tongue like a promise, “I _do_ have somewhere else to be in…” Cold trails off to check his watch. “In seventeen minutes, twenty-two seconds.” Cold quirks an eyebrow at Barry and his teeth peek through his lips in a teasing grin.

Barry barely holds back a laugh especially when Mick shoots Cold a quick and confused look before carrying on with his ‘escape.’ His footsteps fade and Cold and Flash are left alone. Barry crosses his arm and can no longer fight off the affectionate exasperation. “Really? Tonight of all nights?”

Cold takes a few strides to get closer to Flash. “Would you believe me if I said I was picking out something nice for you?” Cold taunts with a shake of his bag of loot.

Barry does actually laugh this time. “Not even a little bit.”

Cold smirks. He takes the last few steps until he and Barry are chest to chest. “We are still on for tonight, yes?”

“I dunno... I’m not sure I should be _rewarding_ bad behavior.” Barry retorts without rebuking Len’s advances. Len’s fingers are trailing along Barry’s side and sending chills through him. Len is leaning closer until his lips are barely a breath apart. Barry waits with buzzing anticipation for one of them to move. Len kisses him at the same time Barry’s feet turn ice cold, and before he can really react Len is practically prancing away with a laugh. “You didn’t!” Barry shouts.

Len laughs. “See you at eight, _darling_!” His voice is saccharine sweet as he slips out another side door and is gone by the time Barry has melted the ice encasing his feet. He can’t bring himself to be even a little annoyed, not when it’s their one year anniversary.

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from John Churton Collins, _"if we knew each other's secrets, what comforts we should find."_


End file.
